Blood Brothers
by 8belles
Summary: Bucky's life is jeopardy. Question is, can Steve save him? (no slash, just a lot of bromance.)
1. Chapter 1

**Blood Brothers**

**Bucky's life is in danger. Question is, does he want to live?**

Steve looked concernedly, but tried not to stare, at James as they sat across from each other in the quinjet troop carrier. This was his first trip back into the field since Steve and Sam had found him wandering about in a very rural Polish farm, half wild from his broken, tortured mind and the other depressed to the point of death.

"_Bucky. It's Steve. Put the gun down. I'm here to help you." Rogers soothed. Falcon hung back at the edge of the trees surrounding the tiny plowed field to give Cap his space. A nervous energy ran along his spine as he watched though, hoping Cap was right about being able to talk James out of his psychosis._

Lightening doesn't always strike twice_, _Cap_, Sam muttered to himself, while surveying the situation, his finger on the triggers of his pistols._

_Crouching down, realizing there was no cover in the open field, Bucky turned to glare at his pursuer, the silver arm extended partially in submission and as a threat. His flesh hand grasped the butt of a pistol in the other, index finger trembling. The blue eyes that looked back were so haunted that even Steve wasn't sure he could exorcise all those ghosts. In the back of his mind, Steve wondered briefly about his own ghosts. "__**You**__. Why do you keep following me?!" James yelled back, his voice a mixture of anguish and rage. The tone reminded Steve of his declaration on the helicarier that Cap was his "mission". It made Steve feel like Bucky's soul was being torn from his body. _

"_I'm your friend, Bucky. That's all. I want to make you feel better." Steve held up his hands and advanced very slowly, footstep by footstep over the tilled black soil. His approach made soft sucking sounds in the wet ground and stirred up the scent of fertile earth between them. In the distance, a rooster crowed and hanging laundry flapped gently by the farmhouse. _

_Bucky was heaving breath as if he had run a marathon, but he was otherwise still as a stone. As Rogers approached, he could see the silver arm had damage to it, like intentional harm, and Bucky was too thin. _

"_Please. Let me help you." Steve said carefully extending a hand toward his best friend. _

_Bucky's eyes darted wildly from Steve's face, his hand, Sam at the tree line and back to Cap. There were tears at the corners of his eyes, and his nose was running as if he was a small child trying to hold them in because he would be beaten if he let them fall. _

"_Please." _

_Bucky lunged forward into Roger's arms and hugged him so fiercely that Cap thought his spine might break. Huge sobs tore themselves from James's body that sounded like a wounded animal was tearing him apart inside. Cap embraced his friend and they both sank to the ground and let their grieving begin, together. _

The mission was approaching and Steve still wondered if Bucky was up to this. After brining him home, Fury had given Rogers some names of people who could help with the depth of Bucky's damage. Sam did what he could and Stark polished up the arm to full functionality. It took almost two years but James was declared fit for battle. Was he really ready?

"_Bucky, we don't have to do this, you know." Steve said to James over dinner at their now shared _

_Brooklyn apartment. _

"_I know." was the simple reply as Bucky pushed his mashed potatoes around on the plate, sopping them up with gravy. Rogers noticed that even with therapy, James tended to say much less than he used to. _

"_I mean it, Bucky. We can quit. Hang up our hats. Enjoy life… for a change." Steve's tone became wistful. _

_James's eyes lifted from the plate of steak and starch and looked calmly at his best friend, "I know."_

"_Well then can you please tell me why the _hell_ you are so eager then to go back into battle?" Cap's voice took a harder edge and he felt his body go ridged with tension. Rogers suddenly noticed he was clutching his steak knife like a dagger. Bucky's eyes drifted to the knife and then casually back to Steve's face. Steve immediately put it down. _

_Bucky, poignantly, remained composed and regarded his friend while he chewed his forkful, "Steve, I've been doing this my whole life. What else is there?"_

_Rogers felt there was another motive there, but let it go, "Because there _is_ a life out there, Buck. A life we never got to live. With jobs and wives and families… and…" Peggy's face swam into his vision. He blinked her away._

"_Do I need to call Sam for you?" was all James replied and then they both lapsed into stillness._

Fury was working his way across eastern Europe, doing what he had planned to do after the Washington D.C. debacle: flush out and destroy Shield/Hydra agents left behind. Two weeks ago, it became apparent to Nick that he was going to need some more specialized firepower. As Putin was making a power grab for the Ukraine, some tentacles of Hydra appeared. Nick needed help.

The message was brief: let the SEALs take out the "normal" hostiles and Bucky, Sam and Cap destroy the Hydra agents. There was a weapon mentioned; nothing like the tesseract-powered guns that Dr. Zola had made, but not quite normal ordinance. Dr. Banner was consulting from a distance, noting he'd like to get his hands on some data. There were hints that Stark wanted to see the technology. All Rogers wanted was his friend to survive and get out, skins intact.

All Steve could do, was tumble the idea around in his mind like laundry: was Bucky ready? Or better yet, was he?


	2. Chapter 2

Blood Brothers ch 2

The quinjet set down with a slight bump just inside the town of Donetsk in a dark soccer field near a school. The SEALs deployed with absolute silence, briefly saluting Cap and his group. Steve gave them a curt nod and jumped out with Sam and Bucky, sliding into the darkness of nearby buildings and homes. Steve hugged a wall as Falcon and Bucky fell in behind. Steve looked into the eyes of his James searching for any sign or hint that he could crack. The level blue gaze of James met Cap's and betrayed nothing from behind that black facemask that Bucky had taken up to wearing again for missions. It gave Cap chills to see how calm he was. "I am fine, Steve. Let's move out." James said in a low whisper.

Sam watched the two men and volunteered to Steve, "He said he was ok. Let him be."

Nodding, almost feeling slightly ashamed for his paranoia, Rogers led them toward the building that Fury had identified as a Hydra location.

Staying low, they used the shadows for concealment. With a hand signal, the three split up to take the apartment building. A single guard stood outside, in a casual way to blend in with the surrounding neighborhood. He didn't appear to be armed but that didn't make them any less cautious. Rogers watched a tiny pinprick of red light appear then a whoosh of silencer. Bucky hadn't lost his skill with a sniper rifle. When they examined the guard, there was a large unusual gun of a technology they had never seen before hiding within arms reach of the doorway. Sam secured the weapon by holstering it onto his back, to be returned to Fury after the mission.

Moving in, Sam and Rogers opened the door to see a crumbling concrete multistory staircase. An ugly mauve paint was chipping off the walls where pro-Russian graffiti artists hadn't covered it. Trash littered the floor and Rogers thought he saw a rat or two. Upstairs, they could hear the sounds of people watching TV or listening to the radio. The smells of dinner not long ago served lingered in the air. "Civilians?" Sam asked as Bucky jogged up to them, his rifle strapped to his back, the barrel poking up in the air behind his head.

"Fury didn't say." Steve replied in an annoyed tone, looking upward, "We have to search door to door."

"Wonderful." Sam rolled his eyes and prepared to climb.

The three of them split up again, each taking a floor of the small apartment building. There were five units on each level and five total floors. Each door opened to the central staircase. Almost simultaneously, they began to kick in doors. The second apartment Bucky opened, he shot a group of guards playing dice, their weapons close, but not close enough. Sam didn't meet anyone on his floor till his fourth apartment, his weapon discharging rapidly as well. The rest were sham apartments with radios or recordings of people and lights on timers.

Steve had the ground floor but encountered no one in all five units. After his last, he ran quickly to assist the others. Twenty minutes later, the building was clear and there was nothing to show for their effort except sweat and the one strange gun. Sam exhaled impatiently, standing between James and Rogers scanning the horizon, "Explain to me _again_ what Fury told you?" as they stood on the roof.

The town's lights twinkled as if it were suburbia and not a pro-Russian stronghold. A dog's bark echoed in the street below. The late spring breeze tickled their noses with city smells mixed with a few early flowers. They stood there in silence pondering their next move, but it was curious they did not hear any sort of skirmish activity from the SEALs who were supposed to not be far away from their location.

"I think it was a trap." James commented, icily calm as he looked at both of them.

Suddenly, the whoosh of a sound Falcon knew too well split the night, "RPG!" he yelled and grabbed each man's shoulder and leaping off the building away from the missile. The wings and jetpack strained with the extra weight as he tried to slow their fall. It was no use, as Sam's grip failed on Bucky's side first half way down and the building exploded around them. James fell almost straight down. Wilson held on to Cap only a fraction of a second longer but Steve's trajectory was farther away from the building. Falcon then shot upward into the night, and engaged the source of the RPG while the concrete and brick disintegrated around his friends. _Please be ok down there, Bucky. For Steve's sake_, Wilson prayed to anyone who was listening.

Bucky and Steve were struck by debris from the building as it blew up. In the chaos, Rogers heard Bucky yell out in pain, as Steve protected his head with his shield. Both hit the ground hard, but not as hard if Wilson hadn't given them some lift. Steve stood up in the choking dust and coughed, "Bucky!"

He heard a moan about forty feet away and moved toward it. The click of a gun was also audible over the settling of debris. Car alarms wailed down the block and they were quickly followed by police sirens. They didn't have much time.

Steve didn't call Bucky's name again because he was uncertain if someone was with Barnes. Hiding behind a piece of broken wall, he looked carefully over it.

Rumlow stood over Bucky, a strange new weapon pointed at his chest, "So the prodigal son returns. Welcome home _Asset._" His tone was pure acid.

James, who had lost his mask, looked up at the scarred face of Rumlow, from the ground and pondered his next move. In landing, James knew his right leg was broken, the pain throbbing like a bass drum. Barnes realized his options were limited. "I am no one's _asset _any more, Brock." James hissed back, slowly trying to prop himself up on his elbows. Visions of a chair and restraining straps flashed forward in his mind. Electricity, needles, shock therapy… _COLD_. Bucky pushed them away.

"Not one more move. Strange to hear your voice, Asset. I recall you never had much to say. Oh, that's right, you were taking orders most of the time. Guess your S.H.I.E.L.D buddies made you soft and slow. I should be dead by now, Asset." Brock mocked, his face a twisted mask of hate. He adjusted his position in the rubble to have a better shot.

"Yes, you should be dead. From a helicarier on your _face_." Bucky shot back and Rumlow's mouth tightened, and eyes narrowed. The sirens of police came closer.

"Nice to chat, but I need to be going. I need to catch up with your _friends_." Brock growled and raised the weapon. In a split second, Steve's shield rocketed out of the dark and struck Rumlow's shoulder, throwing him back, but not before he squeezed the trigger.

The strangest blast sound emerged from the weapon because it was really no sound at all, at least not audible to human ears. Steve heard James scream as Rumlow picked himself up a few yards away with the weapon and ran lopsidedly away. "Bucky!" Rogers shouted and thought _Oh God, if he's dead because I waited too long… again_, he ran to his friend in the rubble.

"I'm… ok. I… think." Bucky's breath was in short, aching gasps as he clutched his left hip. Cap looked down expecting to see viscera or blood everywhere, but the wound was more like a large deep bruise. The weapon had torn the fabric of James's pants but didn't break the skin and a strange purpling pattern was developing under the skin. "This is getting… to be a pattern." James commented through gritted teeth then a spasm shook his body.

Rogers felt helpless, "Hang on and I'll get you to the quinjet."

Falcon came swooping in from the dark almost on cue with a wild look on his face. Small arms fire followed him ricocheting off the surrounding buildings, "We're going to have company!" He saw the prone Bucky, "What happened?"

"No time. You got that gun?" Cap asked as he lifted Bucky up over his shoulder as Barnes bit back cries of pain.

"Yeah. Why?" Falcon asked quickly, picking up Cap's shield and falling into a quick jog.

"Rumlow shot Bucky with one. We need to figure out how it works." Steve replied in labored puffs under the weight of his best friend.

"Rumlow is _alive_?" Wilson gaped.

"Apparently so." Rogers quipped.

"How the hell…." Sam pondered that as they moved toward the quinjet.


	3. Chapter 3

Blood Brothers

The SEALs wounded were carefully loaded first, then everyone else entered, taking a hasty seat. The vehicle lurched upward and exchanged some small arms fire with the ground. Once it reached altitude, the pilot pushed the engines as hard as they could go, fearing Russian MIGs. The only sounds were the screaming turbines and jets of the quinjet and the quiet moans of the wounded. Steve couldn't take his eyes off James, who lay ashen on the floor, eyes closed. The quinjet took a southerly route to Turkey on the advice of the medics who suggested some of the SEALs needed very urgent attention. Germany would be too far to fly to tonight.

After a few moments, it was clear that the Russians chose not to pursue, for whatever reason, and the troops let the exhaustion take them. A few nodded off into sleep or quietly stared into space, strapped tight into their flight harnesses.

Cap got up and walked to the wounded area of the craft, kneeling down at Barnes's head. James turned towards him and opened his eyes, his pupils huge in the low light and from morphine. Despite medication, pain still was enshrouding him, pinching his features with the look of misery. "How you doing?" Steve asked, trying to keep his voice upbeat. The medics didn't know what to do for James because here was no visible or internal trauma they could detect, besides his broken leg. They shot him up with some painkillers, but other than monitor him, they had no help to offer.

"Tell me again, how you grew so big?" James slurred with a slap happy smile.

Steve grinned despite himself, "I joined the army. That's how."

"Yeah. That's right." Bucky replied with a drunken chuckle. His silver arm shone in the low lights of the interior. The fingers waved in a random way in James's inebriated state. Rogers was still not comfortable around that appendage yet.

"You're going to be ok, alright? We didn't just fix you up to have you break again." Rogers told Barnes in a mock-stern tone trying to keep his eyes from moistening.

"Roger, Cap. Get it? You're in charge." Bucky replied unevenly with a lop-sided smile and then slipped into sleep.

Rogers stood up and carefully picked his way back to the troop area, sitting down next to Wilson. Sam let him be quiet for a moment then spoke softly, "Steve, this may not seem to be the time to say this, but I have to. You gotta relax a little bit man. Bucky is here. He's alive. You're alive. Stop worrying about the future."

Rogers cut a hard look at Wilson and shot back before he could think about his words, "So if your _dead_ partner suddenly walked back in the door, you wouldn't want to look out for him too?"

"That was low, man." Wilson replied, his eyelids narrowing.

Steve inhaled and pounded his fists on his knees in frustration, "I'm sorry. That was low. I apologize."

"Accepted. Been there, done that." Wilson shrugged and looked across the cargo area.

"It's just so strange that he's here at all. I saw him fall, die, resurrect and try to kill me. My head is swimming." Steve confided putting his head between his hands.

"Sounds like a bad date." Sam attempted humor. Rogers turned to look at him and smiled half heartedly. His gaze wandered in Bucky's direction.

"You got that gun?" Steve asked, knitting his brows together.

"Yeah, right here." Wilson pulled the weapon from under his seat.

Both of them looked at the device. It didn't have the eerie blue lights of the tesseract-crystal guns from 1945, but it was certainly not a typical weapon. The barrel was short, stocky. It appeared to have no bullet clip or chamber. There was a small cylinder that reminded Falcon of a CO2 cartridge used in air guns. There was a tiny radioactive symbol printed near the trigger.

"Is it radioactive?" Sam asked, peering at the symbol.

"I have no idea." Steve replied turning the weapon over from side to side to get a better look at it.

The captain's voice made a brief announcement that they were approaching the airbase and everyone should stay clear of the wounded while they were offloaded. At those words, Steve felt a tightening in his chest, constricting his breathing. Bucky would finally be examined.


	4. Chapter 4

Blood Brothers ch 4

**A/N: I didn't know what rank Sam Wilson was (I looked) and so I went with the standard policy for the USAF, which stated that all pilots must be lieutenants in order to fly. My apologies if this is incorrect and feel free to let me know the right rank.)**

The men moved quickly as soon as the quinjet touched the tarmac. The sun was beginning its rise in the eastern sky casting long orange and pink shadows upon the planes and men. Sam and Steve both felt a weariness of being up all night now that most of the adrenaline had worn off. A S.H.I.E.L.D agent was standing nearby respectfully watching the wounded be unloaded. Last off, was Bucky, Cap right behind his stretcher as he was carried into the infirmary. "Captain. A word?" the S.H.I.E.L.D agent said quietly but his voice pierced the cacophony around them.

Steve glanced in his direction and was about to keep walking after Barnes, but Wilson pulled his arm, "Steve, stop."

Rogers composed himself quickly and paused. The agent approached them with a smooth, unhurried gate, " Captain Rogers, Lieutenant Wilson, I represent a mutual friend."

Both men knew he was talking about Fury.

"He can't have it yet. Bucky was shot by this technology and we need understand what happened to him." Steve announced curtly and then turned to leave. Sam tried to stop him again, but he couldn't.

"Captain, I think our skilled friends would be invaluable to helping Sargent Barnes." the agent persuaded, "Was there a purpling mark made on him?"

Rogers stopped and fully faced the agent his brows knitted, "How did you know that? I thought this was supposed to be 'new' and unknown to S.H.I.E.L.D or whatever you're calling yourselves now."

The agent ignored the insult and leveled a look at Rogers, "The reason I am speaking to you now is that all known persons to be injured by this weapon have died, despite not having any external trauma. We are still investigating why this is and you are the first one to have this weapon in your possession. Everything we had up to now was a fragment of the weapon."

At those words, Rogers's guts froze and his heart skipped beats. Breathing became difficult and he found himself clutching his throat. Sam put a hand on his shoulder and tried to soothe, "Breathe, Cap. Breathe solider. Just breathe."

"I lost him once. I won't do it again. I made a promise." Steve rasped and looked sharply at the agent, "You get this to Stark and Banner and find out how it works. I can't… I … " Pivoting on his heel swiftly, he ran to the infirmary.

Sam and the S.H.I.E.L.D agent watched him dash away. He turned towards the S.H.I.E.L.D agent, "I'm sure you understand." The agent nodded solmnly, "You know, I didn't catch your name." Wilson remarked before he handed him the weapon.

"Agent 13." the agent replied and Sam gave strange, surprised look, "Great make up, hmm? Black Widow gave me some tutorials."

"Wow. I would have never guessed." Wilson noted then turned darkly serious, "Are you sure? They all die?"

"Every one. There's no piercing of the skin, just a weird bruising or burn on the surface. Then they get sick and die. It takes about a week."

"Biological?" Falcon asked, folding his arms contemplatively.

"Not that I know of. More like electromagnetic radiation of some type. Like a 'dirty bomb' type technology because it doesn't make any sound when fired." Sharon replied, still looking and sounding like a man. Sam had a hard time imagining the blonde woman under the makeup.

"So, no Hulks. Just dead people. And mass chaos. What an improvement." Wilson commented sarcastically.

"I'm going to get this to the appropriate authorities. Keep me up to date on Bucky." she said with a worried look on her disguise face.

"Make sure the information is two way." Sam warned. She nodded carefully and turned, putting the weapon in a black tote. A base jeep picked her up and drove off to another tarmac for a flight home to the U.S. Sam, hands on hips, watched her go and hoped beyond hope that Stark and Banner could crack this puzzle before it blew Steve apart.


	5. Chapter 5

Blood Brothers ch 5

The base hospital was a busy place. Steve grabbed a nurse by the arm, in a panic, to find Bucky, "Barnes. Sargent Barnes. Where is he?" The nurse looked terrified at him and inhaled to scream. Rogers immediately let her go and straightened up," I… I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't know where my manners went."

Stepping back from Rogers, nurse rubbed her upper arm tenderly, inhaling and exhaling a few times to calm herself and pointed towards the ICU. She kept a wary eye on Steve. "Thank you, ma'am." Cap said quickly and sprinted off down the hallway.

Bucky looked like a soft porcupine with wires and tubing apparently sprouting from almost every point on him. Cap pulled up short just outside the large rectangular window to his room as if someone has just punched him in his gut. He had seen plenty of men die, but they all died quickly in the field, not waste away to death. James seemed to fade into the white sheets, only dark circles ringing his closed eyes. His silver arm, resting above the sheet, seemed like the most alive part of him with its shiny surface reflecting the ceiling light. Even the puckering scars of where the arm met flesh were pale as if a vampire had drained Bucky of all his blood. Tears threatened to well up in his eyes. Inhaling deeply, Rogers set his jaw and swallowed them, while balling his fists in frustration.

A doctor appeared next to him and gently cleared his throat. Cap reluctantly ripped his gaze from James to look at him, "You can go talk to him. He's alert."

"Thanks, doc." Steve replied, his voice small.

"No problem." The doctor replied and stepped away, picking up a chart from a file holder on the wall.

Steve entered the ICU room. It was surprisingly cold, but Bucky was separated from the rest of the ICU patients. Perhaps this was also part quarantine, Rogers quickly thought but shoved the idea away. Barnes was hurt, not sick.

Stepping, almost hesitantly, up to his bedside, Steve looked at the plethora of monitors making all sorts of read outs about his best friend. Heart rate, blood pressure, oxygenation levels all ticked off quietly in a multitude of colored lines and numbers. Cap had no idea what they all meant or if they were good or bad. "Hey. It's Captain America." Bucky's weak voice snatched Rogers's attention immediately away from the monitors. James had an oxygen mask over his face that fogged gently every time he exhaled, his eyes were sunken in to his head and the veins were visible under his pale skin. A pint of blood was hanging from a pole and slowly making progress into James's body.

Steve forced a smile, "Yeah, Buck. I'm here." He took Bucky's right hand and gave it a squeeze. His flesh felt like ice.

"So did we get what we came for?" Barnes gasped, his eyes narrowing.

"Yup. Saved the day as usual." Steve replied trying not to look worried.

"What shot me?" Bucky's tone was a bit stronger, like when he was still the Winter Soldier.

"We don't know… yet." Rogers commented trying to keep his voice steady. The agent's words ran like a bell in his head, '_All known persons to be injured by this weapon have died'._

"Well, I'm not going to get a date looking like this. I need to get fixed up." Barnes tried to smile and laugh but he only started gasping for air.

Rogers couldn't laugh at that, "Bucky, if you'd only listened to me."

A hard glint came into Barnes's eye after he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling with effort, "No, you _listen_ to me. I rather go down fighting than sitting at home watching the world go by. It's easier for **you**."

Steve looked down at James, shocked, "What does that mean?"

Bucky closed his eyes and gathered his strength, "You are Captain America. Everyone _loves _you. You're an icon. I'm a reformed war criminal. No one would miss me." He held Steve's gaze for a few more moments then closed his eyes in exhaustion, falling into unconsciousness.

Rogers felt like a knife was stabbing him in the heart and twisting it cruelly at Bucky's confession. For a moment, his soul was crushed and it felt like the world was coming down on him. He grabbed a chair to sit down before he collapsed. Leaning toward the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands he said firmly, " I would, Bucky. I mourned you for years. We're best friends, James. I would miss you."


	6. Chapter 6

Blood Brothers ch 6

Wilson found him still sitting at Bucky's side, head hanging in his hands, staring at the floor. "Steve. Let's get you some rest."

"I'm fine." Rogers replied, his voice drained. He still wore his battle clothing from last night and the patina of the fight clung to him.

"You may out rank me, but I have more common sense. C'mon." Sam put a hand on Steve's shoulder.

Rogers looked up at Falcon, his eyes bloodshot and the stubble of a beard poking out from his face. Glancing at the unconscious Bucky, he sucked in a breath and replied resignedly, "Ok. Fine."

"We'll crack this. You know it." Sam reassured, escorting Cap to the barracks, "Last I checked Tony Stark doesn't take failure lightly."

"You should have met his father." Steve replied wearily, recalling his work with the elder Stark.

"I bet it he was a pistol." Wilson returned.

"You could say that." Steve looked at Wilson, a small half smile at the corners of his lips but worry deep in his eyes.

"Hit the showers, soldier. Get some sleep. We're no good to anyone dog-tired." Sam said firmly. Cap obeyed and shuffled off to get some bathroom supplies and find the showers.

_It was 1943 in a forest of Bavaria. The Howlers were rounding up Hydra troops when bombs rained down upon them heaving up clods of earth and tingeing the air with the smell of sulfur and blood. Bodies flew in all directions as screams of terror and pain echoed in the tall pines and fog. _

_Out of the smoke James strode into a clearing. Rodgers saw him, "Bucky! Take Cover!"_

"_No one will miss me." Bucky proclaimed fiercely, pointing his silver hand accusingly at Rogers. Steve briefly wondered why he had his prosthetic arm in World War II._

"_Don't say that!" Rogers shouted back as his best friend launched himself to strike. Steve raised his shield at the last minute and the metal hand drew sparks from the impact. "Bucky! Why are you doing!?" Steve yelled above the noise of the bombardment._

_Bucky disengaged and yelled, "You! You have it all! You're Captain America, everyone's sweetheart. The Star Spangled Man! Me? I'm a cold-blooded killer, Steve. They changed me. I don't know who I am anymore." He drew a large knife from a sheath on his thigh. _

"_I'm your_ friend_, Bucky. Till the end!" a stunned Cap replied, his voice on the verge of tears. _

"_And that's why I have to die." Bucky took the knife in both hands and plunged it into is chest. A fountain of blood poured forth and he dropped to his knees in the soft carpet of pine needles. A serene expression was on his face. _

"_NO!" tore itself from Rogers's lungs as he lurched forward to catch his friend before he hit the forest floor. "No! Bucky. Why?" Steve was openly sobbing now holding Barnes. The blood was warm and sticky on his hands. _

_Barnes looked up from Cap's arms and said quietly, "No one will miss me."_

"_I will. Don't die, Bucky. I will!" Rogers wailed as Barnes faded away. _

"NO!" Steve yelled out, sitting up straight in bed, sweat drenching his torso. There were tears on his cheeks. His hands felt wet with blood. Looking at them, he saw none. The rest of the barracks were empty as he quickly glanced at the wall clock: 13:00. He'd been a sleep most of the day. _Bucky, how is he_, Steve thought quickly, jumping up from bed. Rogers cleaned up, dressed and then went looking for a doctor.

Moving rapidly to the nurse's station, he searched for the doctor who had spoken to him earlier that day. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the doctor attending Sargent Barnes." Rogers asked to several ladies and gentlemen entering patient data or going over charts. A few eyes looked up at him, but a white lab coat turned around to face him.

"That would be me. We spoke briefly yesterday. Dr. Tom Simon." He extended a hand to Rogers and Steve shook it firmly. "Let's go somewhere we can talk." Nodding affirmation, Steve followed him to a small office between the ICU and the nurse's station.

Gesturing to a seat opposite him, Dr. Simon sat down and opened Bucky's file. Steve noticed it was at least an inch thick with papers and reports. "Will he make it, doc?" Steve blurted out as if the question was a bubble threatening to burst his chest.

Dr. Simon's brown eyes met Cap's blue ones and there was a sadness there that didn't give Steve much optimism but instead the feeling of a large stone setting in his gut. "Sargent Barnes is a very complex case." Dr. Simon began.

"Sir, all due respect. Can we cut to the chase?" Rogers said leaning forward in the chair and trying to hide the impatience in his voice with little success.

Tom blinked and then gave a small reproving smile, "Of course, Captain Rogers. What we know is this; the gun fires a new type of radiation. It's not like an atomic bomb because it doesn't kill outright or take months to mutate DNA into cancer. It appears to be targeting only bone marrow stem cells. We are trying to first identify this type of radiation and second to measure how much he received." Steve hung on his every word as the doctor continued, "The other issue is that the damaged cells are releasing _something_ to cause other damage to more bone marrow. Do you know what bone marrow stem cells make?"

Steve blinked; "It's been a while since I've been in school, Doc. A lot has changed since then."

Dr. Simon nodded, "Bone marrow stem cells are found in all your long bones, and some flat and irregular ones, like your spine and hip bones. They are the source for all new blood cells in the body. If there are no bone marrow cells, you run out of –"

"Blood. He's dying from the inside." Steve cut the doctor off, gazing past his shoulder at the poster of the human body on the wall. _No one will miss me_, Bucky's voice echoed in his mind.

"Yes." Tom affirmed, "It's like he has some weapon-induced leukemia."

Cap's eyes snapped back to the doctors, "How do we fix it?"

"That will involve your help, we think." Dr. Simon replied, "Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner have sent us some interesting results from the weapon you retrieved, although it's not a sure thing." 

"And what is that?" Rogers responded, an eager note creeping into this voice.

"It involves your blood. Do you know how blood types work?" the doctor asked.

"Yes. Give someone the wrong one, it could kill them." Cap replied, leaning back in his chair, feeling some weight lifting.

"That's the rub. You and Sargent Barnes are not the same blood type." Tom looked down at the file folder and turned a few pages.

"So, how can I help him?" Steve was confused.

"I have read Dr. Erskine's work. Brilliant, by the way. A man ahead of his time." Tom acknowledged. A vision of the German-accented scientist snapped into Cap's head as if it was yesterday. The doctor continued, "Your Super Soldier Serum may be the cure, despite the difference in blood type. James was given a similar serum when the Russians held him, but I was not identical to yours. We suspect that it was not as perfected as Dr. Erskine's was and that is one of the reasons why he is so ill."

"But won't that kill him? My blood type?" Steve asked, wringing his hands.

"We don't know." Tom replied.

"Will the Serum save his life?" Rogers queried, feeling that weight of dread return.

"We don't know." was the answer.

"Is there any other way?" Cap asked, feeling the specter of Bucky's death creeping in on him, "I don't like these odds."

Tom sighed, "I think you know the answer to that." The doctor ran a hand over his face and Steve could see this medical quandary was wearing on him as well. "Please consider being the donor for Sargent Barnes. You may be the only hope he has, despite all the… unknowns."

"Where do I sign." was Roger's steely reply.


	7. Chapter 7

Blood Brothers ch 7

Sam saw Cap sitting at the cafeteria table alone, pushing his baked chicken and peas around as if he were not hungry. "Can I join you?" he asked. Steve looked up briefly and waved to the seat across from him. "I heard the news. Sounds dangerous." Wilson said quietly.

"No more dangerous than any combat mission." Cap replied casually. He lined up five peas and speared them with is fork.

"I am sure it will turn out ok." Sam replied, finding himself for once without words.

Steve looked up from his dinner and Falcon could see the disquiet in his eyes as well as the dark circles, "I'm not scared. Not for me. I'm terrified for him."

Wilson cut his chicken neatly and chewed a piece contemplatively, "Why do you think that?"

"Bucky kept talking about how if he died, no one would miss him. He claimed he thinks I'm the 'golden boy'. He thinks he's broken." Steve explained.

"Well, he is broken. Aren't we all?" Sam returned mopping up peas in some gravy.

"His 'broken' is different." Steve defended his friend, a frown creasing his brow.

"No. Not really. Think about it; haven't you done things, while under command, that were … distasteful to you? Things you may not have agreed with?" Wilson commented. He sipped his coke while waiting for Steve to process that thought.

Steve opened his mouth to answer his claim but then closed it and thought about what Sam had said. Yes, there were times that he wanted to refuse orders or things had gotten ugly in the field. Fury even called him on it once, but was it equivalent to Bucky's suffering?

"You had a choice to obey, which makes your burden worse. James never had a choice, and acted blindly. Therefore his sins are not his but those who commanded him." Sam continued his thesis.

Rogers lowered his voice dangerously, his blue eyes throwing sparks, "So you are calling me a war criminal because I decided to go a long with my commanding officers or made decisions that I now regret?"

Wilson squared up and stared down the super soldier across the table, "No. Absolutely not. We do what we have to for survival and to achieve our objective. My point is that Bucky does not have the only claim of being 'damaged'. We need to help him see that. So he can get better. It's a constant battle. Day by day, man."

Steve leaned back, exhaling a tense breath and threw an arm over the chair next to him. He gazed across the dining hall and remembered the days he and his mom went hungry. Sam continued to eat, occasionally looking at Steve.

"Sam, you are a wise man." Rogers remarked shifting his gaze to Wilson.

Wilson gave a half smile, "Thanks. That's a lot coming from an old guy like you."

"I'm going to get ready for tomorrow. Big day." Rogers said standing and picking up his tray.

"Ok. Let me know if you need anything." Falcon replied and watched him clear his tray and move to the barracks.

_James appeared through a cloud of smoke. Suddenly, Hitler who had hideous claws and teeth leaped out and tore off his left arm. Schmidt then grabbed and held Barnes down, sewing the silver arm to him with sinew and a huge needle, his red skull flaming. Bucky shrieked and cried out for help, but Steve could only watch, horrified. Barnes then chased Cap with the radiation gun, shooting him with blasts of radiation. As Steve ran away, he slowly became a skeleton that disintegrated into dust, while Bucky laughed hysterically. _

Sitting bolt upright in bed, Steve heaved for breath. He was given a private room, as opposed to regular troop barracks, so no one saw his distress. Steve's watch read 0330 AM and his dream definitely told him he was not going back to bed. The procedure was scheduled for 0700 so Rogers decided to hit the showers and pay his friend a visit.

Lights were dimmed for the night, so the hallways were a uniform grey, with only the red EXIT signs above doors providing ominous color. Steve carefully walked barefoot down the linoleum-tiled floors because it was quieter that way. Skirting the nurse's station, he noticed only two nurses were on duty and they were busy on their cell phones or occasionally sharing conversation between them. He slipped by undetected into the ICU.

In the low light, Bucky looked like the old ivory keys of the school piano, alabaster white and dove grey. Next to him, an IV pole hung a scarlet pint of blood above his head, slowly making its way into his veins. The pulse line on the monitors was slow and his oxygen mask fogged irregularly. Steve inhaled a frightened, shaky breath while looking at James. Brining his hands up to his face, he rubbed them wearily over his eye sockets and then brought them down to just below his nose in a contemplative expression.

"Can't sleep?" Steve heard coming from James in a half whisper. Rogers nearly vaulted out of his skin. He didn't expect Bucky to be conscious. Barnes' blue eyes watched him from cracked lids.

"It's going to get better." Steve said, trying to sound chipper.

"Hmm." was all James could manage. Even his silver arm appeared tarnished and grey, like a mirror of condition of its human owner.

"Bucky," Steve began awkwardly, "remember that time… well there were lots of times when we were kids… I was in the hospital and you were the only one to come see me?"

James blinked assent.

"Well, this is like that time. You were the only visitor I got. And when you showed up, it made me feel special, like someone noticed me." Steve smiled gently. "And so, if you die, I'd miss you a lot."

Barnes continued to watch Cap, his expression changing slightly. Was that a smile?

"Sam used a great analogy once in one of his vet meetings. He said you could choose how you want to carry your burden: a suitcase, a purse, a backpack. But the choice is yours as to how _big _you want that bag to be." Rogers said, feeling his throat tighten with tears. He paused to collect himself then resumed, "Bucky, you're the only one who understands me. You're all I got. We have both done some… things we don't' want to talk about, but it's not who we **are**. You are James Buchanan Barnes, my best friend. I don't want you to think you wouldn't be missed."

Bucky, with great effort, reached out with his right hand. Steve took it like it was an anchor holding him to this earth. "Together." Bucky whispered, voice barely audible.

"Yup. Together." Steve affirmed and watched James lapse back into unconsciousness.

The operation room was ice cold and blindingly bright. Steve felt exposed in the hospital gown he was forced to wear as they wheeled him into the theater on the gurney. "Why can't I just walk in?" he had asked the hospital orderly, while crossing his arms over his chest defiantly, "I'm not the sick one."

"Hospital rules, Captain. I'm sorry." The man patted the mattress of the gurney. Steve grumbled some more and obliged.

James was there already and if it was possible, he looked worse than when Steve left his side at 0500. There was a strange machine between them that nurses buzzed around like bees to a flower hooking up tubes, checking settings and prepping the equipment. Dr. Simon stood to the side as Steve was wheeled into position and surgical techs began prepping him for the procedure. "Did you sleep well last night, Captain?" Simon asked in a neutral tone.

"No. Not particularly." Rogers replied honestly and then saw Wilson walk in, wearing surgical scrubs, "What are you doing here?"

"Moral support." Wilson answered and stood to the side, hands clasped in front of him.

"Let me explain the procedure briefly, Captain Rogers." Dr. Simons began, "We will take your blood from your left arm, where it will enter this machine here. The antibodies will be 'washed' as best we can from your blood."

"Because we are different blood types?" Steve asked as the surgical tech inserted the donation needle. Rogers barely felt it. She then stuck on the EKG leads and hooked their wires into the reader. Steve's beep was a clear, regular sound to counterpoint Bucky's weak, almost irregular one.

"Correct. This machine will not remove the changes made to your tissues from the Super Serum. That's what we want James to get. In your other arm, we will be replacing lost fluids with saline so your blood pressure doesn't' drop to dangerous levels." Simon replied glancing between Cap and some data sheets a nurse handed him.

"Why not just put more blood in?" Wilson asked critically from the side of the room.

"We are only taking two pints, _at most_. Any more, even for a super solider would be unwise. Also, a transfusion of normal would dilute the blood containing the Super Serum, which won't help Sargent Barnes at all. " Tom responded over his shoulder, not looking at Sam.

"Why only two pints? "Steve asked in the same tone as Falcon, "What if he needs more? I'll give you as much as it takes." His eyes blazed with emotion.

"You will go into shock and die. And where would that leave Sargent Barnes?" Dr. Simon said simply and moved on," I cannot stress enough that this is a highly experimental treatment and that success may not be guaranteed."

"It's better than doing nothing." Rogers replied firmly, finally resting his head back on the mattress. Looking to his left, he could see Bucky only a few feet away, his dark hair, longer than was in the 40's, brushed the fringe of his eyebrows. The veins in his eyelids were a pallid blue against his alabaster skin. Steve's heart trembled with fear for his friends' life.

"Doctor, we have administered the Coumadin. Ready to proceed." The surgical tech informed Tom.

"What's that for?" Wilson asked. Tom shot him an annoyed look like a teacher who has a student asking too many questions.

"It's a blood thinner. Just in case we have issues with the not having a cross match for blood type. That way we can separate them before Sargent Barnes doesn't have a stroke, heart attack or embolism." Tom's tone was finite.

"Oh." Sam said quietly and let the doctor get on with his business. Steve remained silent.

"Let's call time, ladies and gentlemen. 0700. Let's begin." Dr. Simon stated and his team swung into action.

The nurse unclipped the valve on Steve's arm and his strong heart pushed the vital red liquid into the machine. Soft white wheels rotated smoothly behind clear glass, massaging more tubing, pushing the blood through filters and additives until it appeared on the other side and down into Bucky's right arm. The surgical team waited, eyes bouncing back and forth from the monitors with vital signs every few moments. You could have heard a pin drop.

Steve began to feel light headed and silly. In battle, he'd lost some blood from injuries, but never this much, till Bucky had shot him on the helicarrier during the battle of Washington D.C. Adrenaline had helped carry that day. Despite feeling woozy, he kept his eyes trained on James's face.

Barnes began to pink up a bit and his eye lids flutter, then open. Vital signs improved, but were not yet normal. Rogers exhaled in relief, not realizing he had been holding his breath. "Steve?" Bucky asked softly, looking him, trying to focus as if he had been deeply asleep.

"Right here, pal." Cap reached out with his left and brushed James's fingers. The soft beeps of heart rate began to match, strangely. Smiles began to go around the room for a successful procedure, but then Steve noticed something odd, "Bucky, your nose, your eyes!"

Blood had begun to leak from James's nose as if he'd been sucker punched and tears of crimson leaked from the corners of his lids giving him a grotesque look. Splatters of blood dotted the floor every time he blinked.

"Cut off the Coumadin! Give him vitamin K, 155cc! " Dr. Simon commanded, "He'll bleed out!"

Nurses scrambled to obey, as Steve looked around the room then back at Bucky. He felt drunk, a feeling he hadn't had in over seventy years. Barnes was still staring at Rogers, a controlled terror look in his expression. Then his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he convulsed.

The silver arm threw several surgical techs backward in the spasm, his back arching up off the bed, every muscle taught. "Restrain him!" Dr. Simon shouted and orderlies moved in to strap him down to the bed. Once he was quiet, his vital signs began to improve again at a steady clip. The therapy was still working.

"No… no. Don't hurt him." Steve felt his voice getting weaker and his vision beginning to fade to grey. The beep of his monitor began to speed up as his body tried to deliver oxygen to his tissues.

"Doctor, we are almost at two pints for Captain Rogers." the nurse, monitoring Cap, stated.

"Begin removal of Captain Rogers from the system." The doctor ordered, keeping his eyes on Barnes.

"No. Keep going. Finish it!" Steve protested. His head swam as if someone had clocked him good in the cranium. Though no doctor, he could see Barnes was visibly improving by the second.

"Captain, you will die if we transfuse as much as he needs." Dr. Simon said stepping into Steve's line of sight.

"Finish it." Steve replied mustering all the steel he could. Wilson remained silent from the side of the room.

Dr. Simon swallowed and while frowning deeply, responded, "Alright."

"Steve. NO. No… don't do this." Bucky pleaded, his voice almost normal strength, but a note of fear in it as he witnessed his friend's sacrifice.

Rogers looked to his left and brushed Barnes's fingers one last time, then passed out, the beat of James's strong heart the last thing he heard.


	8. Chapter 8

Blood Brothers Ch 8

Steve smelled a meatball hoagie, which he found strange being that it was dark. Slowly, he realized that his eyes were closed and he felt like he was lying in a bed, which was also odd. He doesn't remember going to bed. The last thing he recalled was watching James revive miraculously from his transfusion of Super Serum enriched blood coming from him. He heard a paper wrapper and chewing.

Cracking an eye, he squinted back at the light. Once adjusted, he opened his eyes fully. A familiar voice with a full mouth greeted his ears, "Look who woke up for lunch."

Rogers looked over towards the voice and saw Bucky sitting in a chair, jeans and black t-shirt, his silver arm deftly holding onto his sandwich. "Bucky!" Steve exclaimed with relief and sat up. The room swam before his eyes. With a groan, he relaxed back onto the pillow.

"Take it easy, Steve. You are not getting any younger." Barnes replied and took another bite, a bit of marinara clinging to his lip. He nimbly wiped it away. Steve felt his stomach rumble in hunger.

"Fess up. Why am I here and you eating a hoagie?" he tried not to sound too thankful to see Bucky perfectly healthy again.

Bucky swallowed his bite and took a sip of his drink, which was sitting next to him. His bangs still hung over his eyes, which made Steve want to take him to the barbershop immediately. "Well, let's start with the fact that you haven't changed one bit, punk." A smirk played at the corner of his mouth, "Still stubborn as ever." Barnes put the sandwich down next to his drink. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on his knees, lacing his hands together. The mix of metal and skin was strange looking to Rogers.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked distractedly, eyeing the sandwich on the table.

"Ok, genius, let me lay it out for you. You had a heart attack. I watched you lay there for almost five minutes while they did CPR and pumped blood back into you because you gave _almost _all of yours to me." Bucky's smile had disappeared and a very deadly look swept over his azure gaze. Last time Cap saw that expression, Bucky was trying to kill him on a helicarrier, "Never. Do. That. Again. Am I clear?" Barnes's voice could have frozen water.

"I had no idea. I didn't think…" Steve muttered, feeling slightly ashamed and looking away from James's powerful gaze.

"Five minutes. Flat line, Steve." Bucky said leaning back, crossing his leg at the ankle. "You were _**dead **_for five minutes. I had to … watch." Rogers detected un-cried tears hovering in his eyes. Bucky sniffed slightly and wiped his right hand over his face.

Cap took a deep breath feeling grateful to be able to, "I'd do it again, you know. To save you."

"I know." Barnes replied his tone warming slightly, blinking away the tears, "Just don't do it again, any time soon."

"Deal." Steve said with a small smile, "Can I have some of that sandwich? It smells delicious."

"Yeah, it's not Defonte's but, passable." Barnes replied and stood up to pass the sandwich to Steve.

"Not so fast." Dr. Simon entered just as Cap was about to take a delicious bite.

Bucky grabbed the sandwich back, giving a shrug to Steve, who glared at him, and continued to eat.

"Captain Rogers. How are you feeling?" Dr. Simon said in his typical neutral tone, looking again at digital files instead of Steve.

"I'm hungry." Steve said darkly, still ruffled about the sandwich.

"Any dizziness?" Tom asked as he looked at Rogers' vital signs on the monitor and in his digital files on his iPad.

"Some." Steve replied, now even more annoyed this doctor was spending more times on machines than the patient. Dr. Simon reminded Steve a lot of Tony Stark in that regard.

"To be expected, Captain. You lost over 75% of your blood volume. Techincally, you should be dead." Tom said as if this was just a small inconvenience. He continued glancing through Steve's reports.

"You've been out a whole week." Bucky added ominously, chewing his hoagie. Steve sat in quiet shock.

"Has Sergeant Barnes filled you in on the events after you lost consciousness?" Dr. Simon asked, finally looking at Steve.

"Yes. Yes he did." Cap replied quietly, glancing at Bucky, who gave him a caustic smirk.

"And you know **now** why I wanted you to stop?" Dr. Simon pressed, his eyes hooded with displeasure.

"I do. And I don't regret my decision." Rogers glared back at Simon.

"Well, I think next time, you should give it more thought." The doctor retorted, "I'll have the kitchen send you up something to eat. Are you comfortable?"

"I think so, for now. Thanks." Steve replied, still moody and wanting some of that sub sandwich.

"I'll be back to check on your condition this evening." Simon commented and then left.

Steve scowled at Tom's back as he departed thinking murderous thoughts about the doctor. Bucky licked his lips and finished his soda with a loud slurp.

"Have you lost all your manners?" Steve asked, annoyed and his stomach growling louder.

Bucky just smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

Blood Brothers ch 9

"New York never looked so good!" Steve said with a smile, dropping his suitcase in the trunk of the taxi at LaGuardia.

Bucky followed behind him, his air cast boot making a soft clunk sound on the pavement. "Yeah, the smells, the noise. Just no place like it." he agreed softly, "Better than Istanbul."

"I can't wait to sleep in my own bed, eat some good food and watch a ball game." Steve commented, still grinning.

"Hmm." Bucky replied noncommittally and sat in the back of the taxi. Steve looked at him as he entered the cab on the opposite side and chalked it up to jet lag.

Their apartment was just as it had been left; perfectly orderly and clean. Bucky's room wasn't, but every thing else had a place and was in it. They didn't say much to each other as they unpacked the few things they had brought on the mission, but Rogers then looked at the laundry basket, "Looks like I'll go do a load." The comment made the thought of Sharon pop into his mind. He wondered how she was doing at her CIA job. Sam mentioned he saw her in Turkey but Steve didn't recall it. He chalked it up to being in a _different_ state of mind with Bucky's injury.

"Ok." was all Bucky replied. Steve was having a hard time still getting used to James's lack of loquaciousness, since being "recovered".

"Be back in a moment.", Steve announced. Picking up the basket, soap and a jar full of quarters, he left the apartment for the basement laundry.

The door closed behind Rogers and Bucky stood in the family room area, gazing out the windows at the apartments across the street. If he looked _just_ the right way, he could see the antennae of the Freedom Tower in the Battery Park neighborhood of lower Manhattan. A few cables of the Brooklyn Bridge were also in view, but only if you craned your neck around a large billboard advertising cellular service.

James took a big sigh. Two years to get back to something approximating normal. The mission felt _good,_ but it was like he still had a hole in his core, ever threatening to drag him down in the abyss again. A small flock of pigeons flew by making him focus on his reflection in the panes of glass. He noticed his eyes were not as bright as they used to be. Worry lines etched into the corners of his mouth and nose even though he was still a "young" man, he felt he was starting to look his real chronological age. The silver arm didn't help.

He looked down at his shoe and the foot in the air cast boot. His hair fringed his peripheral vision. _Steve's been at me to get it cut. I think I rather like it like this_, he mused with a melancholy smirk. Steve: he'd always there for him.

James knew he and Steve were close; what was the phrase Stark used? "A brother from another mother?", Tony had said clapping his hand over Barnes's shoulder once Bucky was allowed to have visitors besides Steve. Barnes always thought that phrase, while highly appropriate, was still a bit tacky. Tony retorted with calling him an old fashioned prude.

James remembered that sad night departing and shipping out for Europe. Fighting and trying to stay alive preoccupied his mind, leaving little room for reminiscing about home or his best buddy. It wasn't until Steve rescued him and the 107th that Bucky truly understood what brotherhood meant to him.

"_I knew him." The tortured phrase ripped itself from his heart as he glanced briefly at Pierce. The Asset was never allowed to look directly at Pierce. His eyes were rimmed red. _

"_Wipe him and prep him again." was Pierce's cold reply before he turned on his heel and left. _

_PAIN. _

Steve reappeared from running his loads of laundry and saw his friend staring blankly at the floor. He cautiously asked, "Buck? You ok?"

James jumped and turned, tripping on his air cast boot, falling rather ungracefully on the floor and almost crushing the coffee table. Barnes scrambled to his feet and didn't want to look at Steve because Pierce was still a vision behind his eyes.

"Bucky. Whoa. It's ok." Steve soothed holding out his hands palm up.

"Yeah. I know." Barnes replied quietly, blinking and finally raising his eyes to Rogers's.

"You need Sam?" Cap asked gently.

"Yeah." James responded, eyes red rimmed, just like when he was in that damn chair.

Rogers kept his voice even, though he wanted to jump into Bucky's skull and slay the demons in there, "I'll call him."


	10. Chapter 10

Blood Brothers Ch 10

"So, since we're all here, I'll charge you the group rate, hmm?" Sam began with humorous sarcasm, sitting down at their eat in kitchen space. When he got the call, he was at the Stark's satellite workshop for the Pentagon, turning his wings for repairs. A very kind Apache helicopter pilot was nice to give him a lift from Washington to New York. When you were an Avenger, you got things and Sam decided he _liked _this.

"Very funny." Steve muttered and handed Sam an open beer. Rogers opened one for himself and Bucky. James looked like a wrung out dishtowel and just looked at the beer on the table.

"What's the problem? Was that mission a bit to raw?" Wilson opened after a sip of his beer. His expectation was less than a therapy session and more of a VFW meeting.

Bucky remained silent, occasionally looking up from his stare at the beer before him. Sam's flags began to raise.

"Bucky, what's on your mind?" Rogers said warmly sitting next to his friend and leaning in a little for moral support.

Barnes sat still, now staring at his hands in his lap. The two men waited patiently for his response.

Finally it came like a volcano of words from him, "Steve! You died. I watched you. I take care of you! I'm supposed to _die first_ you stupid punk. And then I see _them_. I see _them_ when I'm awake, asleep, everywhere! I …. I just can't keep going on like this. I… life… can't." The tears were flowing down his cheeks and into his five o'clock shadow. The pain in his expression was almost too much for Rogers to bear. Sam reached over and placed a box of tissues within reach. James made no effort to clean his face.

"Bucky, you know, eventually one of us is going to die first." Steve admitted and tried not to sound so fatalistic.

"And… " James hiccupped, " I thought I was ready for that."

Sam interjected, "Guys, your friendship is really something to be admired by everyone. But don't let it cripple you. Each of you have your own lives to live. And the chips may fall where they do, especially in our line of work." Both Super Soldiers looked at him, one steely eyed the other a pile of burning wreckage, "Let your friendship be your strength, your center. If you keep worrying about falling off a tight rope, you lose control and will fall. You know each other like the backs of your hands. So back off a bit and _trust_ each other."

Bucky was openly sniffling now. Steve handed him a tissue. Sam was starting to feel a little like Dr. Phil.

"As for your Hydra nightmares, we need to have some real therapy sessions about that, not over beers." Sam commented, "But, James Buchanan Barnes-" Bucky looked up at Sam with desperately sad eyes, "You have Steve Rogers as your right hand man. You have 75% of him in you right now. You can beat this. Let him catch you."

Steve put an arm around Bucky and gave him a gentle shake, "I may be an obnoxious punk, but you're my best friend, Buck. Always have been. Always will be."

"Thanks." James sniffled not looking up at him.

Sam made one more observation, "Bucky, **you** are worth something. Everyone is worth something and your share is more than most."

Using his metal hand to wipe his nose, he sat up a bit, "It's just.. so hard."

"You think I'll make it any easier?" Rogers interjected.

"No you dumb punk. You never have. Ever." Barnes replied grouchily and swatted Cap's arm away.

"See. There's the Bucky we know and love." Sam smiled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yep, we're worse than brothers now, we're blood brothers." Cap replied.

"Till the end." Bucky responded, looking a little less wilted.

"You know it." Steve returned and gave a toast, "Till the very end."

"Amen." Sam finished and took a drink, feeling a little more secure about his two favorite vets.


End file.
